


Boy, you know I want your love

by IntolerantBonita



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, High School, Johnlock - Freeform, Love Confessions, M/M, Valentine's Day, fictional rose allergy, teen!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:24:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9678443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntolerantBonita/pseuds/IntolerantBonita
Summary: "...your love was handmade for somebody like me."John wants to confess his love to Sherlock by giving him a Valentine's Day card... But Sherlock's reaction isn't what he was expecting.Combination of these two prompts:"Person A wants to give a special homemade card to Person B for Valentine’s Day. They go to Person B, only to see a ton of cards on their table, Person B being very popular. They see Person A’s card, but mistakes it for a card that someone gave to Person A to give to Person B, telling them to just ‘toss it onto the pile’ in an uncaring manner. Person A, trying to hide their broken heart, leaves as casually as they can. Person B’s friend soon points out the mistake that Person B made by reading the inside of the card and revealing that it was from Person A. Now it’s up to Person B to find Person A and make things right" and "Imagine Person A gets Person B some flowers. Turns out B is allergic to those flowers. Whoopsy daisy!" from otpprompts.tumblr.com





	1. We push and pull like a magnet do

**Author's Note:**

> This one's for Patricia - you like Johnlock, I like writing, so maybe, by any chance, we both can enjoy this work! :)

  
John pressed the doorbell twice. "Are you perfectly aware it is the last moment you can back away?" he thought when Sherlock opened the front doors with a big smile on his face. "Wonderful, now the only way to get out from this stupid situation is to eat the envelope... Good for you that you haven't finished your dinner, you idiot" the voice in his head didn't stop grumbling.

  
It was Valentine's Day and John had prepared something special. They were going to watch a movie at Sherlock's house... Well, they wouldn't be alone - Molly was going to be there as well. John intentionally had talked with her about her role in this perfectly planned disaster. She was supposed to come late and give John some time for an act. Molly was his closest friend (except Sherlock, of course) and he didn't have any problems with telling her the whole truth or asking for help. As he had thought (and hoped), she agreed to everything right away and even added that she would keep fingers crossed for him on this big day.

  
Because, after all of those years of hesitation, John had finally decided to confess his love to Sherlock. He knew he wouldn't be able to do this without any preparations and thought the day of lovers would be a perfect opportunity to give _the_ boy a handmade card. He wasn't good at writing and sticking the paper hearts (the glue had got everywhere!) but he was able to devote himself this one time. The more John kept thinking about this idea, the more it seemed like an extremely cheesy gesture, but at this point, he didn't care anymore. He kept his feelings secret for such a long time he could even scream those words in front of the whole class if necessary. John wanted to let the world know he loves another boy in any possible way.

  
But it looked like he started caring again... maybe even a little bit too much. He felt such a fool while entering Sherlock's room.

John's eyes fell on a pile of red and pink cards, lying on a desk.

  
"Oh, that? I know, I got surprised as well," said Sherlock, noticing at what John had been peering. "I didn't think they will ever break the record of last Valentine's. Do you remember faces of all those boys when the eleventh card was put at my place? I swear it was the best day of my life!"

  
In fact, John still remembered it very clearly, almost like it had been yesterday. It was the day everyone had discovered how much Sherlock was popular among the girls... not only from their 30 people group but also from the whole school. But it had seemed like a phone number written on every hadn't card even impressed Sherlock. To be completely honest, he hadn't known those girls at all. His group of friends had been even smaller than John's, who always acted politely towards every single person, asking him for help. Sherlock never talked much... but when he did, it was a rude comment about someone else's intelligence. However, the girls didn't see him as an arrogant jerk, but as a mysterious tall man who always sat at the back of the class in a strange pose. Sherlock's image soon had become popular and, after some time, other waving coats could be noticed at the school hall.

  
"Did you bring me a card from Janine?" Sherlock continued, pointing at John's card. His phone made a noise, so he grabbed it and started checking texts, waiting for an answer.

  
John scowled at those words but didn't say a word. He kept gripping the present in his hands.

  
"Janine?" he cleared his throat.

  
"Yes, Janine. The girl from our group who always sits across me? You know her, right?" Sherlock lifted his head and look at his friend. The other's shocked expression surprised him, so he rolled his eyes and continued explaining: "She left a message in my locker that she didn't want to make other girls envy and will hand it to me later or something as stupid as like this. So, can I?" he finished, stretching his hand, waiting for John to give him the letter.

  
"Uhm, yeah, sure," John did what was told.

 _  
_ Sherlock looked at the purple envelope and threw it roughly on the desk, his eyes still on the screen. "A purple envelope, what a classy gesture," he said contemptuously. "She's such a narcissistic. Does she really think someone can be envy because or her? Gosh, this girl must be a complete idiot if she thinks I'll replay her, ask her for a date or even say 'hi'..."

  
He finally stopped texting and looked at John, standing in the same place for the whole time, frozen with disbelief on his face.

  
"It matches your shirt," John said quietly.

  
"What?"

  
"The purple envelope," the boy answered with reproach. "It's the colour of your shirt."

  
"Oh, come on, John. Don't look at me like this. Are you hurt or something? It's just another dumb girl who thinks I'll leave everything and fall in love with her but I'll never do it either for Janine or anyone else! If you think I should care more about their presents, then you can spend the whole evening writing replies instead of watching the movie. Talking about that, where's Molly? Do you think we should call her?"

 

"I... I don't know, maybe she's on her way," John lied and felt his cheeks became red. All he wanted was to leave as soon as possible and didn't talk with Sherlock ever again. But what would be the point if Sherlock wouldn't even read what he had been writing for the last two nights anyway?

 

"I think I'll go for her, could you wait a little bit?" said John, heading to the door.

 

"I can go with you..." Sherlock replied quickly, standing up.

 

"No, there's no sense to go there together, it's just a few houses away... I'll be back in 15 minutes."

 

"Ok, I will wait then," said and fell on the bed, grabbing his phone.

 

John had no intentions in coming back. Of course he got hurt! - by the love of his life. He had never felt so humiliated and lonely before. John went straight to his own house and closed his bedroom door with a huge noise, not saying a word to his parents. _"What was I thinking? That he will start caring about me immediately in a magical way, as if he ever cared about anything at all?" he sat down in an armchair, covering his face with hands. "_ _Maybe I should learn something,"_ he was thinking. _"_ _Maybe I shouldn't fall for bastards like him anymore."_


	2. Although my heart is falling too

"Hello Sherlock, is John already here?" asked Molly, walking into his bedroom.

"I think I'm the one who should ask about it," Sherlock murmured, closing the door after his friend. "He had gone for you over 20 minutes ago and he still didn't come back."

"Oh, so maybe he had forgotten and came for your card..."

"No, he gave it to me when he was there," said, glancing at the top of pink paper.

"And what do you think? Did you like it?" Molly cheered up, waiting for the other's reaction.

"How was I suppose to like it?" Sherlock answered careless, sitting on the bed and patting a place next to him. "I didn't even open it. You all perfectly know I see her as a dull person and I have no idea what she likes in m..."

"Sherlock, wait. I didn't ask you about a card from a random girl, but about the card that he made for you."

"He made a card for me?" he repeated with his eyes wide opened.

"Yes... but I don't think I should have told you, it was actually a secret between our two, it's your and his thing and that's none of my business, he just needed help so he asked me..."

But Sherlock had already stopped listening. He jumped from the bed and in a few steps quickly got to the desk, looking through all of the love confessions from people he didn't care about.

"More, tell me more," he ordered, still not able to see this one purple envelope which should be visible in the pile.

"So, John wanted to finally admit his feelings towards you, but if he isn't here, he got cold feet, I think... I shouldn't be telling you about it..."

"Stop saying things like this, you are our friend! He was here..." Sherlock kept repeating. He was touching the same letters over and over again, replacing them from one corner of the desk to another. "He was here!" he shouted. "He left a purple envelope on my desk and run away because I hurt him... It matches my shirt!"

"Oh, what a shame..." Molly sighed, losing the track of Sherlock's thoughts.

"Molly, can you just stand up and help me?! It's really important! It was somewhere here, I swear..."

Molly stood behind him. Now she was sure he had lost his mind.

"Was it purple?" she said calmly, looking around.

"Of course it was, Molly! I've already said that! Don't you recognise the colour of my shirt?!" he got irritated.

"Purple like this?" asked Molly, handing him the treasure. "I found it under your swivel chair, it had to fall when you were looking for it..."

She didn't get a chance to finish the sentence. Sherlock had already pulled out the message from her hand and hugged her tightly with a huge smile on his face.

"Molly Hopper, you're invaluable!" he exclaimed and pulled her away as fast and unexpected as the hug happened. They both sat down. Sherlock carefully opened the envelope, unfolded the paper and started reading. The girl noticed that his pupils were getting bigger and bigger with every read word...


	3. Say boy, let's not talk too much

_Dear Sherlock,_

_  
_ _I've been waiting way too long than I've should to tell you this. But I was so scared it will ruin everything; that's why I kept it secret for so long._

_  
_ _It didn't start during the rehearsals for our first school concert together when I was glancing at you while you were pitching your violin._

_  
_ _It didn't happen when I had to wait for you under the headteacher office for an umpteenth time because you were arguing with teachers about matters I knew you weren't right about or every time I had to listen to you, swearing like a sailor after you hurt yourself in a chemistry laboratory, just because you never cared about EHS at all._

_  
_ _I didn't feel anything suddenly when I spent that one whole holiday at your house b_ _ecause you twisted your ankle and couldn't go anywhere_ _, reading those boring chemistry books you liked._

_  
_ _It was the day on the playground. Do you still remember it? I was new in a town and other kids seemed like they had already made perfect friendships. I couldn't find my place. No one wanted to play with me, but then I saw you. You looked as alone as I felt and I thought we could be alone together._

_  
_ _And look at us now. We are still the same, living our lives next to each other, with no plans for even an attempt at something more. I know my confession will ruin our common years, but I can't help this feeling anymore. I love you and I always will._

_  
_ _I love you, Sherlock Holmes._

_  
_ _Your John_

 

"Oh my God..." Sherlock whispered, placing the letter on his knees. Molly was staring at the paper without a move and "He did it. He finally did it," was the only thing she was able to say.

 

"Did you know about it?" the man said, glancing at her, but Molly only looked away. "For the whole time?" he could swear he saw a blush on her face.

 

"I've already told you it's none of my business..."

 

"Molly, now it won't change anything anyway," he reminded, sighing.

 

"You are right. I've known for some time, maybe for a year or so. But John told me not to tell anyone. He was so scared of a thought that you might have already figured it out because, in his opinion, it equates the end of your friendship."

 

Sherlock leant his elbows on the knees and hide his face with hands. He murmured something that Molly couldn't hear.

 

"What did you say?" she asked.

 

"That I'm a freaking moron!" Sherlock yelled, throwing hands in the air. "He came here after all those years of waiting, dreaming about this one stupid moment and I all he heard from me was 'Just put it somewhere there'!"

 

"You have to apologise," she cut in roundly.

 

"What? He doesn't want to know me no..."

 

"Sherlock, listen to me!" Molly knew she shouldn't be talking that loud but she couldn't help herself. "You mean the world to him and I'm sure he would like to see you again! Just get your shit together and visit him. He's probably sitting at home right now, overthinking what happened and he needs your support, an answer and nothing else!"

 

Sherlock looked at her uncertainly, surprised by what he had just heard. Everyone was used to the polite Molly, not to the "get your shit together" girl who said things like this when you were in trouble.

 

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" he tried, not sure if it had caused another outburst.

 

"I wouldn't give you a wrong advice, Sherlock," she managed to control her voice. "I want you to be happy together," added, touching his hand.

 

"Thank you," he whispered, gripping her palm in a reply. They were sharing this moment for a while more, but Sherlock got up soon and went out the room, leaving her alone.


	4. One week in we let the story begin

Did he have a plan? No. But was it a problem? Not at all. Well, he would agree to that if he was still in his room with Molly, not in the hall, trying to tie the shoes with his hands shaking. _"Now I know how John was feeling like..."_. Sherlock almost left the house but one thing had stopped him. _"I can't go there just like that, in all my glory..."_  he thought. Then, his eyes met his mum's vase which was standing on the kitchen table. It was full of beautiful roses - a present from Mrs Holmes for his wife. Sherlock hesitated only for a few seconds. He made sure there was no one nearby, quickly took one flower from the bouquet and left the house, forgetting to close the door.

 

Sherlock was thinking about all of those days they had been walking to the school together. They were living on the same street and it was Sherlock who went out at 7.19 (or sometimes three minutes later) and headed to John, counting houses he went by. He was on the spot punctually at 7.28, no matter what time he had left. He always had those two minutes in hand but he was wasting them, waiting for John to get ready. Sherlock always complained but the ritual kept repeating for years now.

 

He ran by his neighbours' houses, his mind focused on not moving the hand with a flower. When he saw the destination on the horizon, he slowed down and looked at the rose - a few petals were missing but it didn't look bad anyways.

 

Sherlock rang the doorbell and Mrs Watson showed up. He hid the flower behind himself and greeted with her, asking about John. It took some time after her son appeared; his hair was messy but, what was the most important, he didn't look like crying. They had been looking at each other with an uncomfortable silence around them unless John finally spoke:

 

"Hi, Sherlock. Has Molly already came? I'm sorry but I don't feel well and I won't be able to watch..."

 

"John, close the door." Sherlock cut it.

 

"What?" he didn't understand at first or pretended so. "There's no reason to do that. I told you I'm coming back to my room in a minute."

 

"Just close them, we have to talk," replied with his face serious. Actually, Sherlock felt way too anxious than he had thought.

 

The smaller boy made a grumbling sound but turned around and did it anyways. "But let's do it quickly, you see I don't wear anything warm and I have no intention of being ill. So, what's the matter?" John stood with his arms crossed.

 

Sherlock took a deep breath and said only one sentence: "I want to apologise."

 

"No, no, you mistook addresses. Janine deserves explanations," John laughed nervously, trying to play it cool.

 

"I know this address by heart because, for the last 15 years, I haven't been doing anything else but staying there, waiting for you to get ready," Sherlock replied with irritation in his voice but John's look put him in his place a second later. He cleared his throat and started again:

 

"I wanted to say I'm sorry... Molly has told me everything, about your love and all those years of waiting. I'm ashamed you've heard such a horrible words and nothing more. I shouldn't have acted like this, no matter if it was your letter or someone else's. I was an idiot but I've used my head and I want to fix this mistake. I'm aware that living with me isn't easy, but... if you still want to try, I'm here for you. At your mercy. Oh, and this flower is for you," he finished, handing the single rose, which looked so sad, to John. In the exact same moment, Sherlock noticed tears in his friend's eyes.

 

"John, please, don't cry... Don't do it, I'm so bad at cheering people up, I..." the taller man panicked but John only lowered his head and laughed again, quietly and softly this time. But his smile didn't cover the falling tears.

 

"Not now, not here," Sherlock said and reached out to hug the poor boy, who followed. John snuggled perfectly under his arms and felt his shirt was getting wet. "John, it's ok. Everything will be fine, there's nothing to cry about... You didn't ruin anything - you began something beautiful."

 

But John had already put forward and looked at Sherlock with his red, puffy eyes.

 

"Of course, I'm crying because I love you and I am not ashamed of this feeling anymore," he tried to wipe off the tears but it didn't help much. "But Sherlock... do you remember why I didn't go for my sister's wedding?" John suddenly asked.

 

Actually, Sherlock remembered it well and it all went clear now. It had happened three years earlier, during their first exams. He had asked John if he had been able to help him with English and the boy agreed. Sherlock couldn't understand why he had chosen to study with him over having some fun at the party... Until now.

 

"Yes, I think you..." he started but John cut it quickly.

 

"It was because I have a strong allergy to roses, Sherlock, and even one flower makes me feel awful. And there can't be a wedding without them," John finished, looking at concerned Sherlock with a smile.

  
"Well, we'll have to explain it to our future wedding organiser... without looking weird," the boy replied, hugging his boyfriend one more time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and happy Valentine's Day!  
> P.S. remember your feedback is my oxygen! ;)


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